If you were in the military and served in Gulf War 1 or Gulf War 2, you probably passed through Bangor, Maine International Airport. BIA is a good refueling stop because it has extremely long runways (it used to be Dow Air Force Base) and it’s the closest we have to Europe. Ever since GW 1, local Maine residents have been greeting planes and providing the soldiers with snacks, free cell phone calls, a warm hug, etc. Toward the end of GW 1, the Today show ran a clip of a trumpet player from BIA playing the national anthem.
Well, even here in Maine we’re not immune to red tape and chickenshit. The fuckwit managers at BIA have banned the greeters from bringing in homemade food - you know that evil fudge that will instantly turn you into a zombie! The whoopie pies that will cause you to run though the terminal raping and pillaging (not that there’s anything wrong with that). There’s some speculation that this is being driven by airport vendors who want to sell more junk food. There also some speculation that it’s just more TSA-FAA-Homeland Security crap.
It sounds like a food safety issue, and actually, given today’s litigation-happy cultural climate, I’m frankly surprised they allowed the homemade goodies for so long.
Perhaps the Greeters could open their own official business, with food inspectors and whatnot, and thus comply with Modern Society’s paranoid need for mass-produced cellophane-wrapped 100% untouched-by-human-hands food.
That is so cool, about the greeters. I wonder how much other good stuff is going on that we don’t know about, because it takes news time away from Paris and Lindsay.
The homemade food was a nice touch. I suspect you’re right, that the vending machine people were losing business. Would the greeters be allowed to hand out fresh fruit? Bags of chips?
From the wiki article that was linked “While many claim it first originated among the Pennsylvania Dutch, others speculate that it was first invented in a Bangor, Maine bakery from leftover cake batter.”
The Amish have their shoofly pie, we Maineiacs have our whoopie pies.
I do think that the real story is being missed here. Judging by the picture in the linked article, our troops are returning home not to be greeted by well-wishing citizens bearing tasty treats, but to be menaced by giant, airborne lobsters!!!
:rolleyes:
That story make the airport management come off like a cross between the Grinch and the local village idiot.
Strict regulations about storage temperature for food? They are passing out cookies for crying out loud. You know the same kind of things that the airport vendors sell and store in some fucking warehouse at OG know what temp. :dubious:
Well, holy shit. Learn something new every day. My Grammie used to make me these all the time; never knew where she got the name. This was growing up in St. Stephen, NB, next to Calais, ME. I still make 'em out here in Seattle, but no one calls them Whoopie Pies besides me. Some Western Canadians call them Jos Louis, and while I adore the Vachon cakes as much as the next person, Whoopie Pies are still Whoopie Pies.
There was a misspelling in mom’s annual church recipe book that she sent me a couple years ago. While it includes the ubiquitous Whoopie Pies, they misspell it “Whoppie Pies”. This sends me into a fit of giggles every time I see it, while my mystified husband thinks the original name should be hilarious.
That place is sweet. I’ve been there twice. Once while leaving for Iraq, once on the way back. When you get off the plane, you get applause, handshakes, hugs, food, and a cellphone for a phone call to your girl one last time (or first time in a while). If they take that away from us, may they be struck with an ironic case of (giant, nonairborn) crabs. You know how you have certain memories in your life that you’ll never ever forget? June 25, 2006, I’m walking down the jetway with my whole company and I turn to my friend and say “You realize this is the last time we’ll touch American soil for the next year?” We both stopped and stood there for a second, letting that soak in.
I remember someone saying that the oldest person in their group has been shaking hands and hugging soldiers since WWII, greeting tens of thousands of flights. I say they just let the manager know that “We’ve been doing this longer than you’ve been alive, sonny.” That should clear it all up.
That’s much, much better than any possible meanings my horrific brain came up with. In fact, those look rather tasty.
Why do you hate America?
Seriously, though: they’re giving out baked goods. Hell, I work in a library, and today the administration gave us free cake, and it was totally awesome. Why do we want to deprive anyone, let alone returning soldiers who’ve been through god-knows-what, of tasty home-baked goodies? That’s like being anti-happiness or something.
It truly cracks me up to hear people wonder what whoopie pies are. I guess growing up there you take simple stuff like that for granted.
After Desert Storm there were many of us who would hear of a troop flight coming in and go to the airport to cheer for them. I never took cookies though. I went into the airport bar and bought beers for thirsty soldiers. There was a tender moment when my wee daughter stood ona table to sing
“Last night I had the strangest dream, I never had before. I dreamed the world had all agreed to put an end to war”
When she finished a large Marine officer gave her a big teddy bear hug. A few of people got vaklempt.
So, if I took home made cookies with me for a flight I couldn’t share them with others? That’s goofy. Forget the tables. Fill your pockets and purses fellow Mainiacs and just hand them out.
